


drifting

by theneoncake



Category: Filthy Frank - Fandom, The Filthy Frank Show (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Color Blindness, Consensual Non-Consent, Consensual Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Male Slash, PWP without Porn, Sexual Violence, Slash, good lukc, i like this k, this is literally just smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9343097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theneoncake/pseuds/theneoncake
Summary: when frank comes back from the ricefields theres a man in his apartment that looks just like him. he decides to teach him a lesson.





	

The apartment used to be quiet, serene even. Empty chip bags and beer cans thrown wherever they landed. Whether the lamp fell over or the TV cracked, it didn’t matter much to Pink Guy. His home used to be a safe place without all of the yelling and violence. He placed his foot one after the other, crawling over shards of glass. Some of the edges stuck in the carpet and pointed up like death tulips. It sprouted with the new presence of Fake Frank. That’s when things were destroyed. Drawers from Frank’s dresser slammed into the wall. Drywall covered every inch of their carpet, a dark fur that’s now white. The place he grew up in crumbled with the frustrated tearing Fake did with his emotions. 

 

Back and forth he swayed, tried to come up for air, but instead he dipped back into that dark power Chin Chin always happened to give him. He drank it all in like a young boy in a candy shop, and all the candy was free. Fake must have known how good it'd feel coursing through him, pumping down his throat with his dark lord's praise, kisses. Devoid of any source of Real Frank Pink Guy could feel the matter dripping off his skin in waves. He wasn't stupid. He knew that smell, the stroke of ice across his tongue, the sudden pounding in his heart. Chin Chin snatched up another one.

 

Pink Guy stayed out of his rage. He hated the newcomer. Why would he like a weak shadow who destroyed the air he lived and breathed? The bathroom went untouched, thank you. His equipment and bath-bed stayed exactly where he remembered putting it. 

 

Frank was never gentle with him before, but the lycra could see this wasn’t his master. The stranger, posing as Frank, lurked in Frank’s bedroom. It was like he was searching for something, but he’d torn away the layers of the small space and thrown it to the ground. What was left of Frank’s haven was a place to sleep. Fake ripped the wallpaper to shreds and it looked like a  _ Silent Hill _ film in there. Sometimes, he found the Fake Frank hacking a mix of bile and blood off the balcony. Arguably, his body was rejecting the new source of chromosomes. The boy used to live in a distant realm with no sort of income. If he ingested so many at once, he got absolutely ravaged with fever. Fake's throat would seize up, scratching, pulling, until blood dribbled down his chin and onto the sidewalk far below.

 

Of course, he’d never seen the creature’s eyes. His friends, Safari Man and Salamander Man attempted multiple failed attempts to steal the  _ Spiderman _ shades. If the lines digging into Fake’s temples were any clue, they, well, had no clue at all.

 

In the darkness, Pink Guy planned to sneak up on him sleeping and take the shades off in curiousity. Instead he caught Fake doing something extravagantly weird, the door left cracked open. The copy sprawled in Frank’s bed with a single shirt in his arms, the Real Frank's shirt. The sliver of light that etched across his legs revealed he wore anime PJs, no socks. Fake appeared as a gentle soul then, body shaking and Pink Guy realized he was crying. No, his hand wrapped around his dick tightly. He stared at the way his lips parted in a breathless, Japanese groan of,  _ "Fuck, please."  _ Pink Guy felt dirty for witnessing it, and he quickly skittered away. He didn’t tell anyone until his master returned to the house. Frank brushed it off for a few days, at least.

 

Pink Guy felt extremely jealous with the new thought of them touching, together, alone, by themselves.

 

If he said the place got quiet again he’d be lying. Living with two opposing, headbutting personalities was like being at a debate every single day. Constant bickering and he was stuck right in the middle. (Not to mention the way they left Fake Frank bleeding on the cold roof.)

 

Just when the small lycra was ready to scream, Fake just up and stopped. Strange, he thought. The shadow has always been loud and talkative no matter the situation. He didn't care about others opinions, and now he acted like a submissive bitch. Even Pink Guy thought Frank was intimidating, but.. Nothing much had changed except the new red marks under Fake’s jawline. So, that was it.

 

Things got weirder with the alarming entrance of a sound. Loud, like a person fell through the ceiling and landed on the table in the dining room, but when Pink Guy checked there, only the remaining mess stood as evidence. Plates shoved to the ground carelessly and without thought, chairs crooked when he knew Safari Man tidied the room. Crashing echoed down the hall and he carefully walked that way. Down and down and down he listened to breathless pants, sounds of clothes shifting,  _ that sound _ Fake made before. Through the peek of light trailing towards him, hauling his being closer, he got a full view of the two pressed against each other. At first, he considered the option that they were just fighting.

 

They weren't.

 

Fire plummeted deep into Pink Guy's stomach and deeper still. He felt betrayed and angry when there was no reason for him to be. Why didn't Frank do that with him? Why did he choose some man he barely knows over a partner in crime? Frank'd traveled across the omniverse searching for him. Frank hadn't almost  _ murdered _ him. Frank  _ cared _ about him. All the chromosomes they shared and he was fucking himself. Typical of his master to be so selfish.. Pink guy thought it must of been his inability to flirt, or get sexually aroused, or, or,

 

Frank eyed him. He'd been caught ogling them, and now Frank has to hate him. It was expected, at some point, it'd come to that. When Frank realized how possessive Pink Guy remained even after years of friendship. 

 

"Please, no, please, I,  _ oh fuck."   _ Fake groaned when Frank jerked his cock hard and then slow and then hard again. His knuckles were red with bruises from earlier when the two got into a brutal fist fight. None the less, the loud crack from Fake’s nose being broken felt like sin.

 

Raw and dirty and low in his chest. "Frank, no n, no, 'm not gay," he gasped desperately, his fingers sinking into short, dark hair. Frank didn't look bound to stop anytime soon, and his doppelganger's muscles flexed and shook. Was this punishment?

 

"Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? Think you're me?" The original breathed into his ear harshly. "Big fucking difference." Frank’s breath already sounded heavy. His cheeks flushed red. His double practically leaked chromosomes, Pink Guy noticed, inhaled the intoxicating smell of dark power. Chin Chin definitely left his mark even after he disappeared. Frank must’ve been very, extremely aware of that or he wouldn’t be all over him.

 

Right? 

 

The brown flight hat hit the floor, and next were his pants. Fake Frank’s dick strained against his black briefs, bunched around the spot Frank manhandled. The sight of his double wrecked had him licking his lip, tongue darting out at the urge to suck on his neck. Pink Guy thought maybe he’d taste like bitter coffee and vanilla. God, did he smell like a freshly brewed cup, ready to sample in a Costco. 

 

Frank glanced back at his friend, began the show of fucking his shadow. He unbuttoned his blue flannel, kicking off his own pair of dark briefs into the increasing pile of dirty fabric. Fake peeled off his sticky clothes and Frank couldn’t help his heated staring. “Fucking Christ, you’re hot.” He mumbled as he jumped Fake, his lips pressed to the back of his sweaty neck, smelt like candy. “I could fuck you all day, baby.”

 

“Narcissist.” His shadowed gasped. Frank’d pushed two fingers inside of him, shoved him roughly into the destroyed wall. “Haha,” he laughed when Frank dragged his fingers out wet. “Bitch, of course I’m prepared for this gay shit.”

 

Pink Guy would, of all the things in the world, like to remember Frank kept his composure because Frank is his master, and he respected him, to a point, but honestly he’d be wrong. Plastic glasses hit the floor, and the blindfold tied around Fake Frank’s head happened in .2 seconds. He doesn’t exactly know when they started conversing in Japanese.    
  
“ _ Get on your knees. Suck me.” _ The view remained perfect. Already bruised knees, flushed chest, his mouth open and waiting. If Pink Guy needed spank bank material, this would’ve been it. Frank slapping the head of his dick against an awaiting tongue, choked on a so-unlike-him moan with the entire seven inches of rock hard cock down Fake’s throat. 

 

“Mmm,  _ fuck me, please.”  _ The man on the ground said against his thigh, panting and trembling. Frank appeared that he was thinking about it. Weighed his options and guess the whole “fucking” option won because he guided Fake Frank onto the bed, pressed him onto his stomach the most gentle Pink Guy had ever seen him. He kissed his lower back and his ass and his hips. Fake gripped the pillow under his cheek as Frank pushed inside him. They groaned in unison. 

 

“ _ Fuck yeah, who’s your daddy? _ ” Frank laughed, punctuating ‘daddy’ with a sharp slap to his ass. The high moan that followed had Pink Guy’s head spinning and his stomach churning with jealousy and warm butterflies. Every thrust lingered as sound, hard and brutal. “ _ Fuckin’ like that, slut?”  _ Vicious fingers ripped his head out of the sheets. Fake’s hair was long, easy to hold onto. It was perfect for a little bitch.

 

Fake Frank whimpered despite trying to hold onto his dignity. “ _ Just like that, yeah, feels fuckin’ good.”  _ He was getting his ass destroyed and still had the confidence to give the thumbs up. “ _ Oh yeah,” _ he rambled. “ _ Oh fuck, fuck, gonna,”  _ his hand flew down to touch himself. Over the edge. 

 

“ _ Not yet, cunt.”  _ Frank pinned the struggling hand in the curve of his back. He was getting close too. Pink Guy could tell. His hips were stuttering and his thighs were shaking, by jesus almighty holy shit, he was staring directly at Pink Guy as he fucked into the man drooling into his pillow. “ _ Oh fuck! You can, I’m cumming, shit. _ ” 

 

They both came at the same time, typical of them. Pink Guy should have heard the same name from their lips, but he didn’t. 

 

“ ピンクの”

 

“コヘ”


End file.
